


Cherish The Small Tragedies

by Nugg



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Drunkenness, Fluff, Humor, Inappropriate Jokes, Injury, M/M, Paramedic Ryuji, akira gets loopy and becomes a flirt, ambulance, well sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23293927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nugg/pseuds/Nugg
Summary: “ Hit and fucking run by someone riding a god damned VESPA!?!?“Akira has a bit of an accident, and that accident leads him to see the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. A paramedic by the name of Sakamoto Ryuji, in which Akira takes no hesitation in embarrassing himself in front of.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 39
Kudos: 232





	Cherish The Small Tragedies

**Author's Note:**

> There is a puke scene and some sexual humor so be a bit aware!

Today was kind of not really his day. Like, on a scale of one to ten of this being the most shit he’d dealt with over the course of an hour, it was like a nine. The subject that caused the whole collapse had literally happened like two minutes ago. 

He was laying on the cement, cold from being cast in a shadow, thinking of everything that led up to this very moment, so early in the day that the world was unfairly treating him bad. Usually his life was sucky- he could tell today was going to be especially bad from the second he felt his coffee slip from his hand and crash to the ground _just_ outside his apartment building. 

That was besides the point. 

It hit him like a… well… _a truck._ But moreover, it was a tiny scooter that hit him unusually hard for its size and pace. Going fifteen below the speed limit, which was already a _very low_ speed limit to begin with. 

He can’t remember what he was thinking about in that moment, because, maybe he _wasn’t even thinking._ It was a Tuesday, one that was going to be warm and lovely and good enough that patrons would come into the cafe he worked at and drink tea on the patio. 

He’d worn his best outfit for this weather too, and now his jeans had a rip, blood trickling from a small wound. It wasn’t even a cool kind of ‘I bought these jeans with the holes already in them,’ it was unsightly, on his upper calf, the edges stained with blood. To be hit so hard you tear your most favorite jeans! 

Speaking of, he tried his best to look around, searching for the motorist who struck him. Remembering their green helmet and blank look as they plowed into him- they _must_ pay for at least his pants. He had health insurance, he didn’t need help with that… but he was sure fashion insurance on a pair of thrift shop jeans he found years ago didn’t exist. 

Lifting his head up just slightly caused an unexpected amount of pain. Causing him to grunt in the pang or hurt that rang through his whole head, dizzying him. Or, making him as dizzy as far as laying on the ground could take him. 

“Yes..” he heard the woman who was currently on the phone with the police say. Grateful someone was kind enough to call in for someone hit by a slow moving scooter. 

She’d immediately ran up to him afterwards, _not touching him or asking if he was okay_ , just immediately saying, “I’ll call the police!” as he sat in agony and confusion at the situation. 

“Yes, yes, hit and run. A yellow Vespa. Wasn’t going very fast- mm hmm.” Akira desperately wished to hear if the operator was insulting him for his stupidity, “No no, he hit his head when he fell, got scraped too. Should I get him up?” 

_Hit and fucking run by someone riding a god damned VESPA!?!?_

Placing her phone to her chest, she inched a bit closer to him, looking down to speak, “The ambulance is on it’s way, they said about three minutes… you chose a good place to get hit hehe!” 

He tried hard not to scowl, _really,_ but it was impossible when someone is laughing at your pain and trying to make jokes. Her giggles dying down upon seeing his expression, Akira guessed he was intimidating enough to send her away again. Taking her place somewhere close in the distance as she resumed the call. One sided conversation filling the almost empty street. 

It felt a bit weird after a hot second. His head was spinning a bit, and if he could, he’d roll over to his stomach so he could press his cheek to the cool pavement. To not go delirious in a time where he was probably already a bit kooky from a hard fall, maybe made everything a feel bit worse. 

He couldn’t pinpoint any time he’d ever rode in an ambulance. Sure, hospitals he’d stayed in and remembered vividly for all the sterile smells and white that filled his memories. But he’d always just gotten a ride to the emergency room via taxi. Or in the case of his hometown, his parents own car, shocked now to even think an ambulance could traverse the streets of Tokyo in three minutes to reach an idiot struck by a scooter. 

The sky above him, as blue as smog could ever paint it, started to blur a bit, and Akira really didn’t know why he wasn’t panicking. Letting his hands rest at his sides, touching the cool asphalt and feeling for the cracks. As if his palms were making sure he was still touching the ground, the coolness from the shade sure helped him feel like he was there. 

Faintly he heard sirens, but it was Tokyo. Anything could be going on to warrant sirens in this city. 

Maybe someone called in because they saw his coffee laying on the sidewalk outside his apartment, spilled. He can’t really go back and think whether or not he threw the cup away, so maybe the sirens were coming to take him away for littering!?

_Ah ha._ He was definitely not feeling himself.

Trying to recall everything so he could tell the paramedics, the events that led to him falling also seemed a bit fuzzy. But after a second of searching his brain, no matter how much it hurt his head to do, he figured it out.

So, he was about to cross the street, it was a crosswalk, so he wasn’t jaywalking or anything like that, _and the light was signaling him to go_ so he was abiding traffic laws _!_ Still reeling over his lost coffee, grumpy already, and making plans as to how he’d open the shop today- okay, so maybe he wasn’t actually paying enough attention. 

Or as enough as he should’ve been, given he was obviously so out of tune he failed to notice such a vehicle coming at him. 

Was it head on? Now that he tried to think back he couldn’t quite get the detail right, remembering the helmet, and the yellow color of the Vespa as it was inches away from him. Knocking into him, and something catching on his pants, he fell. 

Such small details stuck, but not the important ones like _how_ he was hit. The sound of his jeans ripping, and the feeling of his hair moving into his face as he tumbled down. The impact he made to the cement wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world, but it happened, and it hurt like freaking hell. 

“Sir,” 

After he smacked the ground aggressively, he turned and noticed he was mere inches away from probably breaking his neck on a curb. Feeling the sting almost immediately of abrasions on his arms, small pebbles sticking to his skin as he lifted them into the air to see the damage. 

“Sir.” 

It was red, bloodied only in some spots, such an injury that reminded him of a friction burn. Like the one he’d felt that time when he tripped going down the last step as a child and slid elbow first on the carpet… 

Just trying to figure this all out was making his temples throb, and if he wasn’t in so much pain he’d get up and grab some Advil from his bag. Faint remembrance bringing him to recall it flinging not that far from him.

“Hello??” 

Blinking hard, everything melted back into an adequate place for him to piece it together. Ah yes- reality. Where a man's face was hovering above him, crouched down, nearby sounds of a heavy truck idling. 

The guy smiled brightly when Akira seemed to finally come back home to his senses, and- uh oh.

“Aye, there you are. Could ya tell me your name and what happened?” 

This wasn’t good at all, Akira wasn’t feeling anywhere near his normal self… and this guy. This guy was _hot as fuck._ Like, the type he would swoon over for days, someone he could meet at a bar, but not take home. This guy wasn’t the take-home-from-a-bar type, he was several dates leading up to one kiss kind of guy. And that was what Akira had been going for, _for quite some time._

The smile really threw him for a loop as his heart seized up, the poor paramedic trying to help him out was unfortunately doing the just opposite in the long run. 

Beautiful like an angel, descending from the heavens specifically picked by God to come to his aid, whoever this was, lit up the sky with just his presence. Smog? Fuck the smog, it was gone now and this person had wiped it all away in seconds, environmentalists would _envy him._

Not knowing the difference between him going crazy and real time, the world became a white fade, only showing the most magnificent thing- _this paramedic's face._ Like it truly was a dream, some shitty angel Instagram filter was placed on this man in real life. Akira wouldn’t be shocked if he hallucinated a halo on his head in a few moments. 

Akira just felt drunk. Almost immediately upon realizing how cute this man was, he was intoxicated beyond belief like he downed three pints on a dare.

And, when he was drunk, he was unexpectedly flirty. There was no stopping him, no matter how embarrassing the shit he would say was. 

“I’m a Aaaaaa.” He tried, furrowing his brow and going for it again all in a matter of a second, “I’m gonna guess your name is ‘Gorgeous,’ I’m Akira, and I got hit by a freaking scooter.” 

Prime example was calling the man gorgeous before even introducing himself.

The paramedic sort of paused for a minute, like he was trying to let what was just said to him seep in. Not making eye contact with him as he halted was _extremely_ unfortunate for Akira, because he wanted to see if the beauty this dude radiated, could also be found in his eyes. 

Clearing his throat, he was only the slightest bit phased, which made the drunken feeling Akira upset. Watching as the guy turned to rummage through a duffle bag he brought with him, “Ah ha, funny. I know it’s gonna be a little hard to concentrate during this since you hit your head, but you’re going to have to cooperate with me to get you out of here as quickly as we can, okay, Akira?” 

“Ooo, I like it when you say my name,” he grinned, all sense gone as he dove into full on delusion, “Okay, I’ll be good for you.” 

Sighing, the paramedic’s smile was only a little difficult for Akira to find, but it was found when he began to speak again, “My name is Sakamoto Ryuji, I’ll be taking care of you today. Are you able to sit up on your own?” 

He barely tried, but the straining sound he made had made it seem like he did, “Hmm nope, hurts too much.” 

“Does your head hurt, Akira?” He asked, multitasking in prodding around at the wound on his leg. 

“Oh hell yeah,” he sputtered, “I tried to turn it earlier and it made me dizzy. Of course, not as dizzy as I feel when I look at you.” 

Sakamoto Ryuji, whose hair was brunette and short, and whose smile lit up the world, had frowned. Akira made sure to have a list in his mind of all the things he liked about this stranger lest he forget. His eyes were sorta brown, he couldn’t really tell from this angle and the lack of sun didn’t do any help. 

His hands were calloused and strong, and judging by the muscle in his arms as he worked, _he_ was strong. Concentrated face proving something too difficult for Akira to stare at for too long, not wanting to fake a fever with how hot his face was growing. 

Only feeling a slight sting, he raised his head just slightly, watching him with his busy hands. Already done with cleaning his cut and onto the bandaging, _Akira realized he suddenly had a thing for guys in action,_ and would ya look at that? This man was in action.

“Can you wiggle your toes?” 

He wiggled his toes in his shoes, noticing they weren’t as wiggly as usual. 

“Can you drum your fingers for me?” 

His heart matched the beat of his fingers on the pavement, they were all normal there. However, slower than usual. He kind of felt like a sloth, sluggish, but still alert and alive. 

“I’m gonna try and lift your leg, alright?” He asked and subsequently did before even receiving an answer. 

His one without the gash was perfectly fine, but his other one _with_ the injury warranted a hard, “FUCK.” When he felt the prick of sharp pain in the cut on his calf, it had spread all the way up his leg, powering through the sudden rush of agony to gladly see he still had mobility.

“I’m gonna have to take you to the hospital, Akira. Unfortunately I think you may have a concussion, from then out the doctors and nurses can assess you better than I can sitting on the cold cement.” He sat back, looking down on Akira’s pathetic little situation. 

_He hadn’t embarrassed himself in a few minutes, had he?_

“Mmm, I’d go to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to, Sakamoto. Don’t worry, you’re doing perrrfect.” He shot back, watching the paramedic stall out as he was trying to stand, halting for a second as if to process the words. 

His second of freezing was just that- _a second_ , as he stood, shaking his head. A snort of laughter coming from him, he pressed a fist to his mouth, “I see a head injury makes ya all flirty? It’s cute.” 

Face reddening, if he could turn his head, he would look away, “You’re cute,” 

Sakamoto could only flash a smile as he disappeared into the running ambulance. Loud and obnoxious, it’s engine didn’t go too well with the pounding in his head. Hearing a bit of rummaging as he tried to count the windows to the part of a large building that he could actually see from this angle. 

Maybe he blanked out for a bit, because the windows all disappeared for a moment. Like a prolonged blink… except he didn’t close his eyes. Next thing he knew he was being jostled around, groaning as his head threatened to burst. 

Some man other than Sakamoto was putting him in a gurney and he frowned. He wanted that beautiful face more than ever, because his injury felt a hell of a lot better when he was the one treating him. 

Held down with only two little straps, he started his little adventure into the ambulance. Watching everything move above him, eyes only trained upwards, it surely made him dizzier to look up so hard, but he couldn’t possibly care. He just desperately wished to see those eyes on him one last time before he died.

“There we go!” He heard from behind him as he was finally put into the vehicle. _Now that he thinks about it, he remembers hearing that these rides were a bit expensive…_ did his insurance cover this? 

“Akira you’re all set,” Sakamoto said when his gurney was locked into place, not visible to the patient, _but he was there_. 

His head by this point was killing him. Like someone had been repeatedly hitting him with a frying pan, throbbing pain that started to make his eyes hurt. If his mental capacity wasn’t already fucked, he guessed he could add his stomach too the list of things wrong with him. 

When the bed was adjusted so he was finally sitting up, (thank god they did it gently.) he slapped the side bars aggressively with one hand, and slapped his free one to his mouth. 

“Gonna…” he mumbled through the bile rising in his throat, trying to speak around it, “Gonna throw up.”

Within moments whatever Sakamoto had been busy with was dropped. Grabbing a weird looking blue bag with a plastic-like opening, and if he had any time to pay attention he’d look at the details a bit more. However, as soon as it was placed up to his mouth, he let loose. 

How the man holding it up for him didn’t flinch or grimace was beyond Akira. Grabbing on to his wrist for purchase as his whole body _shivered_ , feeling more come up, jerking forward despite his head. He could feel something in his nose, it burned and felt like someone pumped carbonation into his nostrils. 

A gloved hand moved to his back, smoothing over and being almost too comforting. Like it was a push for him to vomit even more, coughing in between, eyes watering. It didn’t taste like much because he had planned to eat at work this morning. But screw that plan now, he was barfing in front of the cutest man he’d ever seen… and the cutest man he’d ever seen was holding the bag for him. 

“I’m,” he breathed heavily, feeling just the last bit begin to flood his throat, “sorry.” Akira managed, before he hurled one last time, falling backwards onto the white bed. Feeling his mind spin, throat and nose burn, and his stomach feel the absolute worst. 

At his feet, the ambulance doors shut aggressively, and Akira smacked a hand to his head. Which added even more pain. 

“Are you feeling a tad better now?” Sakamoto asked, placing a warm hand upon the one just laying in his lap. 

Nodding a bit, and only smiling as much as he could manage, he felt disgusted. Still feeling how nasty it was to vomit, like there was still something there. 

Taking a wet wipe, the paramedic dabbed around Akira’s mouth, taking away what was making him feel so gross. Grateful, Akira laid back and closed his eyes. Wondering just what he did for karma to put him in this position. 

And- _god,_ his throat was dry. 

Breathing heavily to make room for words, he slowly rose his lids and found the sympathetic grin pointed at him. Eyebrows contorted into concern, it was a sight for sore, _sore_ eyes. 

“Can I have your number?” He asked, head lolling to the side. 

_Wait what the fuck._

 _What!?_ Number!????? _HE WAS GOING TO ASK FOR WATER WHERE THE HELL DID NUMBER COME FROM._

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid-

A curt laugh, and Sakamoto withdrew his hand, “No, but I can get you a water.” 

_Oh thank god._

Sighing, he took the small water cup and watched the guy disappear from his field of vision to do something again, “Hah, that too.”

Rummaging sounds didn't so much to irritate his injury. Trying to steady himself and find a middle ground to the pain he was feeling, rather than the on and off throb. In the midst of it all, remembering that he should be at work right now, he scrunched up his face and sighed, _Boss was gonna be pissed_. 

“How many times have you rode in the ambulance, Sakamoto?” He asked, trying to distract himself from the yelling he would be getting. 

The paramedic stopped whatever he was doing again, “Oh well over, 75 times I think?” He said, “I just started about four months ago, but believe me I’ve gotten soooo much experience.” 

Well, time to further this whole thing. 

As nonchalantly as he could say it, he listened to what the guy was busying himself with, a bit of clanking, unidentifiable noises really… and he took his chance, “You’ve ridden one this ambulance like, 87 times, but how many times are you willing to ride me?” 

It went silent for a moment. 

Akira flushed red already, frankly that color even before he said what he did, just sucked in his lips and waited. Staring holes into the ambulance doors, just hoping the guy didn’t open them up and push him out onto the street for such a thing. 

“That’s uhm.” Sakamoto finally said, “That’s very inappropriate Mr. Kurusu.” 

Scrunching up his nose, he groaned, “Awww come on, don’t call me by my last name. Call me Akira, pleaaaaase.” 

Sitting at his side, something in his hand Akira couldn’t see, those magnificent eyes were narrowed, “Do you think ya really deserve that?” 

All he could do was shrug, “You’re fucking gorgeous what else can I do?” 

The man sighed, _deeply._ Wondering if the paramedic had to deal with someone as unique as Akira, he couldn’t really tell him he wasn’t normally like this. Because then he’d say something he didn’t wanna say, like, “I wanna bend you over,” instead of, “I want to feel better.” _Or some shit like that._

“Everything aside, I’m going to be puttin’ an IV drip in, this is a measure taken to-“

_IV? Like a needle in his arm type shit!?_ He didn’t sign up for that, no no no god no. 

Whatever Sakamoto was saying was probably important, but fuck it if he was listening. Why did he need one!? The world was hazy as it was, this shit added on. 

“-okay?” He heard finally. Just catching the end of the guys whole explanation. 

“No.” 

Arching a brow, tiny tube in his hand, Sakamoto looked a bit taken back, “What?”

As he was hooking the bag full of whatever the hell was gonna be going into his veins, Akira looked to be paler, “You are not sticking a needle in my arm.” 

“Akira, it’s a necessary precaution, I wouldn’t be doin’ it to purposely hurt you.” He grabbed Akira’s hand again, and to add to the list of things wrong with him, he thought his heart stopped in that moment. 

“I don’t like being poked.” 

“What if I distract you?” He offered. 

“Well yeah sure that’d be fine, I don’t know how you’d achieve that though.” Akira shot back, and for some reason it felt like they’d been friends for years.

Shrugging, he dropped the grip on his hand and went to the crease in his elbow, prodding around, “I could… hmm.” 

“You could kiss me.” He batted his eyelashes, and Sakamoto shook his head, laughing. 

Leaning in a bit, needle in hand, the paramedic shrugged, “Well you do drive a hard bargain there. But you are pretty freakin’ adorable, so it would be hard to pass it up.” 

Shocked, before being overly satisfied, he grinned, “Finally coming around?” He could barely feel the hand still on his arm, two fingers pressing into his skin. 

“Well. Yer a charmer. Who wouldn’t want to be hit on by a guy like you? I mean just look how beautiful your eyes are.” Sakamoto’s small movements went unnoticed, and he hoped his coworker up front didn’t hear any of this. 

From pale to pink, Akira’s cheeks heated up, “Well I think you’re just the cutest person I’ve seen. I wanna take you home with me.” 

He seemed a bit self conscious now, and the paramedic took one more step to ensure the delusional man was far enough gone, “I’d gladly let you do that… what do ya think we’d be doing at your home?” 

“Well I’d take you to the bedroom immediately, no questions.” He chuckled to himself, not even paying attention to what Sakamoto was doing, “Of course that’s after I pin you to the wall and-“ 

_Prick._

Eyes widening. Akira stopped his subduction, both hands gripping the sheets for dear life. 

He looked to see a smug Sakamoto, sitting back in his chair, and then down, to see the needle stuck in his arm, tape and everything already over it. 

How did he not notice? 

How could he be such a fool!?

And- _why did it hurt more than ever?_

“OH YOU FUCKING DICK. THAT HURT, YOU TRICKED ME! I THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING SERIOUS BUT YOU TRICKED ME!” He shouted, chest heaving, feeling the sharpness from the IV. 

Just arching a brow, arms crossed at what was just said to him, sat the paramedic. 

_Oh shit he just called him a dick._ He just called the guy he’d been swooning over for the last half hour a dick, and had a temper tantrum like a toddler. Such a handsome guy shouldn’t be dealt with like that, and he felt stupid for yelling. 

Despite what he just did to him, Akira flashed a wide beam, smoothing back his hair, and clearing his throat. Trying to regain what composure he had left, and to not feel the pounding in his head, “But it probably doesn’t hurt as much as it hurt when you fell from heaven.” 

Sakamoto deadpanned, thinking they were over this part after the apparent betrayal, remembering something he saw on the internet once to this exact pickup line, “No, but I did scrape my knees when I crawled up outta hell.” 

Taking what was given to him, Akira went hard with the banter, “Are you used to being on your knees, because if so I can totally help you there when this is all over.” 

He watched for a moment, reading the paramedics face like somehow if he stared hard enough it would move. _Smile_ , anything to make him feel just okay about what he blurted out. 

Silence. 

And then a grimace, looking at Akira with absolute disgust, _this was the exact opposite of a smile oh god._

“How old are ya, Akira?” He asked, knowing that some questions might get him repercussions back at the hub. 

Blinking, his smile then didn’t seem malicious or sly, _but genuine,_ “I’m 24, what about you?” 

Rather than being hostile and outwardly ignoring the conversation like he’d been doing, he decided to give a normal chat a chance, “I’ll be 24 in four months. What do you do for a living, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

This didn’t change his lewd mouth, but it certainly was a step up, “Oh I don’t mind, _at all._ And you’re younger than me, wanna call me senpai?” 

“Ah hah hah. _No.”_

Nervously laughing at the lack of bites to his lure, he gave an answer, “I work at a cafe. I would say I’m a barista, but I do so much more than that. The owner is kinda like my father. What made you wanna be riding around in ambulances dealing with freaks like me?” 

_Normally Akira didn’t talk this much, but this guy… this situation was different._

Ryuji liked the calming nature of this talk far better than the ones before. Even if there were a few flirts thrown in there, “My ma is a nurse, and when I was little I’d uh… always get hurt. I just remember the workers bein’ so kind to me.”

“I think the changing point was my injury in high school. The doctors and nurses were so freakin’ lovely, and the paramedic who took me to the hospital was reassurin’, humorin’ me to try and get away from the fact that I’d messed up my leg.” 

Grinning, Akira quite liked this atmosphere better, it soothed his sudden horniness and almost made his head hurt less, “That’s sweet.”

Sakamoto really brought out the conversation in him, “I’m trying to go to business school so I can own the cafe when my old man retires. I can make curry just as good as he can now, so it might be soon.” 

Suddenly the vehicle slowed to a stop, and the paramedic could only watch as the man sitting in the gurney deeply frowned. Obviously disappointed that he couldn’t stay longer. (which was very idiotic due to the fact that he’s suffered a head injury.) 

“Can I have your number?” He asked rather quickly, not wanting to ever stop talking to the beautiful man who rescued him from the sidewalk.

Ryuji could hear his coworker slam his door and make his way to the back door to open it, shaking his head towards their patient, “‘No I’m sorry, policy states that we can’t give out our own information other than our name to who we treat.”

Akira let his head droop in disappointment. 

And just as the doors began to open, he looked up, “Wait so you’re saying you would if you could?” 

Rolling his eyes, he unlatched the gurney, and suddenly Akira’s head started to pound again. Working himself up over a man he just met, not wanting to get help for himself because he was _head over heels._

As soon as he was pushed through the doors to the hospital, he felt the hands propelling him forward, drift off. About to fall asleep, despite wanting to fight it to say goodbye, _and to save himself,_ he felt his eyes become heavy. Accompanied immediately by a doctors, ‘thank you,’ and faintly before he nodded off, a ‘love you ma,’ from Sakamoto. 

‘ _Love you ma?’..._ Akira could dream he meant to put an ‘n’ at the end of the last word. But frankly, the dream he was going into didn’t seem like the one for serious thoughts. 

As if he blinked, bathed in darkness for only a moment, IV tugging along with him as he was wheeled somewhere inside the hospital. He guessed he passed out, watching the lights in the ceiling fade away as they made their way down the hallways. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” He heard, vision blurry. A bit confused as to why he felt hazy, and a bunch of, “who, what, where, when, why’s.” Feeling the whiteness of the room seeping to his already pale skin, he groaned. 

Seriously, it felt like a second that he was out, “How long was I..?” But that second made him feel all the more better, no head pounding anymore. 

The nurse that came into view was an older woman, smile gentle, eyes a rich chocolate brown. They reminded him of the paramedic, and vaguely he wondered what that color would look like in the sunlight. 

Hair, a brunette, crows feet and other signs of getting older, she still smiled as she unclipped something from his finger, “About a day, sweetie. You did wake up for a bit but I’d doubt you’d remember that!” 

“What’s my situation? What happened?” He asked, feeling around on his head for any sort of sign, only touching upon the tender part he must’ve hit when he fell. 

She sighed as she made her way to the door, grabbing some sort of chart, and quickly scanning over it, “You have a mild concussion. Which of course needed to be treated, you were also dehydrated, and did you know you were anemic?” 

Blinking, he shook his head, “Not one bit.” 

“Well Mr. Kurusu, I’ll be taking care of you the rest of your stay. Which fortunately isn’t very long after this, your cut on your calf is bandaged, and we’ll send supplies home with you to help with it later. Sounds good?” She practically sparkled with her beam, head tilted for feedback. 

She really was a nice nurse. But he still missed his knight from the ambulance… 

“Of course, thank you.” 

She swatted the air, “No need, it’s my job. I’ve been helping my son with cuts since he was a boy too. You can say I’m trained in the youngins!” 

She busied herself at the counter in his room, throwing stuff away, washing her hands. Her small stature wasn’t much to say about her, because she looked just the slightest bit intimidating beneath all that gold. Like she could equally cradle him and scold him at the same time and somehow it’d make him content.

Squinting, it was hard to read her name tag without his glasses, absentmindedly thinking _where the hell are my glasses,_ before he focused on a name. Stethoscope almost obscuring his focus. 

Maybe she would know?

“Hey is it against policy to..”

No.

No fucking way. 

_No fucking way her name is Sakamoto._

“Is your son a paramedic?” He simply asked, innocently enough. 

Turning around with a grin, she nodded feverishly, “Yes! Yes he is. My little Ryuji, was he in the ambulance you rode here? Did he take care of you well!?”

So, he did hear it correctly, ‘I love you ma.” A true testament to how weird this situation played out.

Before he could say anything she continued, “I don’t like to assume but my boy, he’s one of the gays you know? Like the kind that likes girl and boys? I forgot what it was called. I’m not going to pester, but it’s worth a shot!”

She leaned into him, and _how did Akira not know she was Sakamoto’s mother?_ They were spitting images of each other! 

“Do you perhaps swing that way? My Ryuji needs a handsome man like you to ground him. I’d love for you to consider him as an option if you do, but he warned he is a little shy kid. Still blushes when people compliment him!” 

Sakamoto Ryuji’s mother was asking him if she was interested in pursuing her son. _Sakamoto Ryuji’s mom called him a, ‘handsome man.’_

He specifically remembered what the paramedic last said to him, _“we can’t give out our own information other than our name to who we treat.”_

Seems to be that Akira found himself a loophole. 

Trying not to look evil in how big his grin was, he really really didn’t think getting hit by a scooter would possibly turn out _this_ good. 

“Sure. Could you give me his number?” 

_Time to embarrass himself all over again._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment! I love the few of you who always comment and tell me they love my work like, woof you know how special that is?
> 
> List of things on my plate that comments might help fuel: smut, wizard AU, Ryuji’s dads death fic, and a rewrite!!!! 
> 
> Everyone stay safe. I hope this cures a bit of boredom


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